Mothers and Daughters
by metameric1
Summary: What might Helen think upon learning that her eldest daughter had entered into a serious relationship with that lazy, shiftless, no-account Trent Lane character? Well, if you put it that way...
1. Chapter 1

_Yet another shameless Daria/ Trent shipper project. In this Universe, things go a bit differently…lots of post IICY characters have been added for the sake of moving things along. Any resemblance to real individuals, living or otherwise, may be coincidental, or maybe not. You can't prove anything, so whatever._

_Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for fun and entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged._

_**Mothers and Daughters**_

_Chapter 1_

**_Reconnected_**

"Have a good holiday, Ms. Morgendorffer," smiled the portly professor. Lowering his voice, he looked at her over the rims of his reading glasses; he tapped the side of his gray head, a twinkle in his eye. "You are a rare encouragement for this dispirited old man."

"Thank you, Professor Sanderson. Enjoy your family."

Not surprisingly, she had been the first one to turn in her test booklet. Having decided to focus on writing critically with an eye to precision rather than sheer word count, her essays had gotten far more brief and to the point. It had become a challenge; choose a sound rhetorical strategy and cut to the chase, making every word count.

Several pairs of eyebrows shot up in surprise, if not annoyance, when she walked out the door.

The Comparative Lit exam was the last hurdle before the Thanksgiving break. She stepped out into the crisp autumn day and headed across campus to her dorm. Jane had texted her and had set her ETA at two in the afternoon, a little more than an hour away. They were going to spend the holiday checking out the kind of apartments that were available; the plan was that they were going to share a place when Jane started the spring term at Boston Fine Arts College.

She took the stairs up to the third floor, and knocked habitually and paused before opening the door. She had developed that protocol after walking in on her roommate, Deidre, entertaining her boyfriend. She dropped her backpack on the floor next to her desk, and picked up the note taped to the microwave.

A minute later, she heard a knock on the door.

"You're early," Daria smiled, pulling her friend into a rare hug.

"Missed you, Amiga," smiled a surprised Jane. After a moment, they broke apart. "Somebody else wanted to come," she smirked, tilting her head.

"Trent?" Her response was several milliseconds late. She stared, in mild shock. Not what she was expecting.

"Hey, Daria, looking good," he murmured quietly, standing a few feet away in the hall.

"It's good to see you," she managed. "What are you doing here?"

"Gave Janey a ride up. Thought I'd say hi before I leave you two alone to catch up." He gave her a lazy smile, and stepped up to the doorway. "Gotta find a place to stay. If you don't mind, I'd like to join you guys for dinner, so if it's okay, Janey, call my cell."

Daria gave him a quiet smile. After a moment's hesitation, she stepped towards him, opening her arms. The two friends shared a hug, Daria resting her head on his shoulder. "I missed you," he murmured quietly in her ear.

She blushed furiously. "Yeah," she said quietly, enjoying his familiar scent, pressing her face into his shoulder a bit longer than she should have.

Jane, smiling, looked away, not saying a word. She dropped her sleeping bag on the floor, and looked around Daria's dorm room. She stepped over to a built-in desk, and began looking at some framed photographs on the shelf above it.

"Trent, if you don't mind the floor, you can crash here." She balled up the note and tossed it into the trash can. "Deidre's staying at her boyfriend's place, and she's okay with Jane using her bed. You could use Jane's sleeping bag."

"I thought I'd give you two some privacy."

"I don't have anything to hide from either of you."

Jane, suppressing an urge to open her mouth, just smiled.

"You've grown a bit bolder, Amiga," Jane grinned at her friend. Trent had stepped into the shower- it had been a long day, and he wanted to change into fresh clothes.

"Well… I missed you guys too, "Daria said quietly, looking at her hands in her lap.

"No wild parties to distract you?"

"You know me, Jane. Deidre dragged me to a few parties, but then she kinda gave up. I'm just not into that scene. I mean, I've gone out with a few guys, but I'm not what most guys seem to want around here. It kind of makes me want to go find another green jacket and black skirt again."

"Too cold for a skirt, I'd say. Besides, it would be a loss, you know. You look great. Nothing wrong with that."

"Mmrrrf." She got up and pulled open a drawer, pulling out a dark green sweater. A man's sweatshirt fell to the floor. Daria blushed as she picked it up. "I should give this back."

Jane raised an eyebrow, taking it from Daria and holding it up. "Hockey? Never figured you for a jock."

Daria snatched it back and threw it on the bed. "That's why I don't go to parties. I make mistakes like _him _when I get to drinking. Maybe it'll fit Trent."

"Wishful thinking?"

"You'll never know, Jane."

"You know, he's changed since you last saw him."

They decided on an early dinner, and caught up as they ate. Daria had found a small Italian place nearby, owned by a pleasant middle-aged couple from Sicily. The menu featured what Americans thought of as Italian, but there were a few favorite Sicilian items always listed on the blackboard along with the daily specials.

Daria ordered the _Pasta Alla Norma,_ a fragrant dish of fried eggplant, tomatoes and basil, while Trent and Jane decided on a lasagna that promised a Sicilian touch.

"So how's the Spiral doing?" Daria ventured, having had a few fortifying sips from Trent's glass of beer. _Damn, he still made her a little anxious._

"They're doing good. Monique is fronting them now, and I guess she's better eye candy than I ever was, although I was probably a better guitarist."

She paused, fingers motionless over the breadsticks. "Was? You mean you left the Spiral?"

"Yeah. I finally figured out that I'd never get anywhere with that dream. Nobody, myself included, was working hard enough to make it work. Anyway, I got a day job to help Janey out. This BFAC is an expensive school, and even with the grants and scholarships she got, I figured she could use the help."

"Damn, Trent, you're full of surprises. How did Monique wind up with the Spiral? Isn't that kind of awkward?"

"Not really. She and I just kind of grew apart. You know how we never could seem to make it stick? I finally figured out I needed a different kind of girl."

'Well, I know you'll find someone," Daria mumbled to the floor.

* * *

_Dammit, I can't sleep. _

Jane snored softly from Deidre's bed, sprawled face down. There was enough moonlight spilling through the open curtains to see pretty clearly. She had forgotten how much alike the Lane siblings were; she had seen Trent sleeping just like that, during the many nights she had stayed over at Jane's.

Hey, it wasn't her fault that Trent often left his door cracked open when the weather was warm. Maybe she had enjoyed the occasional free show on her way to the bathroom when the stars aligned: a full moon, an open door and just enough heat for covers to be kicked off.

Beautiful boy.

She smiled secretly as she flipped her covers off and swung her legs off the bed, planting them squarely on a warm body.

_Shit. _

How had she forgotten that _he_ was asleep on the floor? And what was he doing right next to her bed?

She wiggled her bare toes experimentally.

_Yup, that would be his ass._

Shifting her weight gingerly to the floor, she looked down. In the dim light, she could see enough to note that he had rolled over on his side and was looking up at her.

_Oh God._ She flopped back onto her bed, pulling her legs up and wiggling back into her sleeping position. As if.

A few moments later, she rolled over on her side and peeked over the edge of the bed. "Sorry, Trent, hope I didn't wake you." _Sure, I just stepped on you and fondled your ass with my toes. Why would you notice that?_

A soft chuckle was the reply. After a moment, he spoke quietly. "No worries, I wasn't really sleeping. What time is it, anyway?" He slowly sat up. She was relieved to note that he had a T-shirt and boxers on. He flexed his shoulder and back, stiff, trying to work out some kinks.

She found her glasses and her cellphone. "Three-fourty five. Really should try and get more sleep, otherwise I'll fall asleep showing you guys around today." She got out of bed, more carefully this time, and made her way to the bathroom.

She found him sitting cross-legged on the edge of her bed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had pulled on a pair of sweatpants. "Can I ask a favor?" he said softly, getting off her bed.

"You're supposed to buy me dinner first, you know."

He laughed quietly. "Anytime, Daria."

_ Damn this mouth of mine_. She wondered if he could feel the heat radiating off her face.

"Actually, I was just wondering- not that, you know, I wouldn't _want_ to-" he paused, wondering how to remove his foot from his mouth.

She laughed softly.

He'd missed the sound of her voice. It always amused him the way she tried to keep it dull and unmodulated, the defense made plain when she forgot herself and let a laugh like this one escape. "I- kinda have a kink in my back from the floor," he said. "Guess I'm getting old. I was just wondering if I could get you to walk on my back? You're pretty light, and it should be about the right pressure to get it to pop."

She smiled at that. "Sure. Let me get my spike heels and my leather corset. I guess I should go find that darn ball gag so we don't wake Jane up."

He let out a snicker. Jane snorted and rolled over on her side. After a moment, she resumed her soft snore. "Sorry," he whispered. "I wouldn't want to explain it to her either." He stretched out on the floor, face turned to the side. "Just put your weight along the sides of my spine. Start at the lower back and work your way up to the shoulder blades."

Putting her hand out to balance herself on the edge of her bed, she gingerly shifted her weight as he asked. She slowly worked up along his back, feeling his musculature shift beneath her feet. As she approached the shoulders, she felt a click and then a deeper pop as something eased. "Was that it?" she asked quietly, almost disappointed that seemed to have worked so quickly. He nodded, and she carefully stepped off and gave him her hand as he rolled over. She pulled him up to a sitting position.

"Thanks. Your toes are magic."

She smiled, hoping he was referring to the back walk.

"Sit here," he said quietly, indicating the end of her bed. After a moment's hesitation, she complied. He felt her shudder slightly as he put his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed. "No wonder you can't sleep. You're really tense." He gathered her hair into a loose ponytail and moved it away from her back. She took it from him, their hands brushing. She smiled.

He rubbed her shoulders for several minutes, and then began to apply pressure to the base of her skull with his thumbs. Working carefully down her neck, he began to feel her relax.

_She's brilliant, so cool…I was such a moron…_

She moaned very quietly as he worked on her shoulders. _He has no idea what this is doing to me- or does he? My God, this feels so good._

"Lay down." He moved to the end of the bed, kneeling down so he could reach her lower back. With her head turned, he could apply pressure to her back with only his stomach getting close to her head. It would be easier if he could straddle her legs, working from the other side, but that would be a very bad idea. She seemed to be enjoying this, and he didn't want to freak her out.

Rather than sliding his hands over her back, which was hard since she had her sleeping shirt on, he rolled the heels of his hands and pressed his thumbs into her muscles. He worked along her back, stopping at the swell of her hips and her rear. _A truly excellent butt, and very nice legs._

He was surprised when she pulled the hem of her shirt up, baring her lower back, and wiggling the waistband of her shorts a little lower. "Just a little more, please?" she whispered quietly.

Smiling, he continued, this time with his hands on her bare skin. Tiny sounds escaped from the woman, and he fought to keep from slipping his fingers past the elastic of her shorts. He had to stop, before things got out of hand. Besides, Janey was sleeping only a few feet away.

She sensed him pulling back, and she silently pulled her shirt back down. She rolled on her side, and pulled him down. "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he answered. "You should get some sleep." He stood carefully, turning so she wouldn't see the pronounced bulge in his pants. As he moved to lay back down on the floor, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him back.

"Lay down with me, old man," she whispered. "I just got that kink out." She held on tight. "Don't worry, I'll deal with Jane in the morning. Just keep your hands off the goods." _Just what the hell am I doing? This was supposed to be over and done with._


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_**Unexpected**_

Daria woke to the sound of a page in a sketchbook being turned. Opening her eyes, she reached and felt around for her glasses and put them on. Jane came into focus, sitting crosslegged on Deidre's bed, a big grin on her face.

"Nothing happened, Jane," Daria sighed, preparing herself for a shitstorm. "He got a kink in his back sleeping on the floor, I let him up with me. That's all." She moved to sit upright, but found herself pinned under Trent's arm, which was draped over her midsection. She had been spooning him. Or was it the other way around? _Crap._ She wiggled out from under him, and scooted over to the edge of the bed. She sat looking at Jane, who smiled back. "What?" Daria grumped.

Wordlessly, Jane turned her sketchbook to Daria. She smirked as Daria's mouth fell open.

"WE DID NOT DO THAT!"

Jane flipped the page.

"OR THAT, EITHER! DAMMIT, JANE, WE HAD-_ HAVE_- OUR CLOTHES ON!"

"Artistic license, Amiga."

"Oh, fuck."

"Yup." She snickered. "Morning, Bro."

Trent blinked sleepily, and yawned, roused by the kerfuffle next to him. Then he noticed the sketchpad in his sister's hands.

"Whoa."

The look Daria gave him suggested that he needed to elaborate.

"Nice sketch, Janey." Daria facepalmed. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say; he tried again. "Um, you know Daria and I didn't _do_ anything, right?"

He got up and headed for the bathroom. "She let me on her bed because I got a kink in my back sleeping on the floor. I had my arm over her because I move around a lot in my sleep. I would never take advantage of her, even if you weren't in the room." He closed the bathroom door.

Daria got off the bed and pulled some clothes out of a drawer.

"And I will let him share my bed tonight," she said defiantly. "Nothing is going to happen. I like Trent, and even if he and I _were _a couple, you're in the same room. Ergo, nothing is going to happen."

"Fine. You can't blame me for wishing that something _would _happen between the two most important people in my life. Daria, are you telling me that you feel nothing other than friendship for Trent?"

"That," fumed Daria, "is none of your business." She sighed, dropping to her bed. "Okay, maybe it is, but I'm not saying."

Jane tilted her head, stifling the urge to grin. _You just did, missy. _Perhaps the sketches were a bit uncalled for, but she couldn't resist when she had seen that expression on her friend's face as she slept.

"You know, he invited himself along. I was going to take the train up, 'cuz I didn't trust that piece of crap he used to call a car to make it all the way here."

"Used to? He got another car?" Daria jumped at the chance to change the subject.

"He gave the blue bomb to Jesse's kid brother. He sold most of his band gear and bought a newer car with some of the money."

"He sold off his music gear?"

"Most of it. Kept his acoustic guitar and a few odds and ends. _Changes,_ Daria." Jane closed the sketchbook and tossed it onto her backpack. "After you moved away, he seemed to finally get it. I'd be in my room, sorting through all that crap, and he'd sometimes be standing in the doorway, watching, with this funny look on his face. It hit him that things were going to change, whether or not he was ready for it." She stood up, already changed into her running gear. "I'm going for a run. Any place I should stay away from?"

"Just stay on the campus, it's pretty secure if you keep to the quads."

"Figured I'd finish before you woke up, but I got distracted. You okay with me leaving you alone with him?"

"Sure, I still have several canisters of _Mace _and a baseball bat under my bed_._ We'll get breakfast when you get back."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"He's your brother, Jane." _Damn. That didn't sound right. She felt a smile coming on, not sure if it was due to having good friends close again, or the memory of his touch._

* * *

"Sure, thanks. Sorry for the short notice."

Daria stepped out of the bathroom. Trent was sitting at her desk, writing in a black notebook while talking on his cell.

"Yeah; I think I'm pretty close by. At one of the Raft University dorms…got it. Okay, I'll see you soon." He ended the call, and stood, almost walking into her. "Hey, Daria."

"Hey, you're dressed up," she said, surprised. _Something's going on. "_I thought we could get breakfast when Jane gets back."

"Ah… sorry, I can't make it this morning. Got to meet someone. I'll call you guys later on today." He pulled out a black sweater from his bag, pulling it on over his head. He looked at her, giving her that half-smile that seemed to mirror her own at times. "You look good, Daria."

She sat down at her desk, pulling off her glasses. She slowly polished the lenses, not looking at him. "Thanks, Trent, so do you," she said quietly.

There was a pause, but she didn't look up. After a moment, he let himself out of the room.

The dorm room faced the parking structure where he had parked. If she bothered to get up and look out the window she might be able to see him walk out of the building and maybe get a glimpse of his new car.

_ Damn that guy. I don't feel anything for him; that was just a stupid schoolgirl crush that I got over long ago. He's just a friend. Why should I care who he's meeting? It's not like he's wrecking any plans that I made for him. Hell, I didn't even know he was coming._

_ Then why am I pissed off at him? _

She stood and crossed over to the mirror_. _She had gotten dressed in the bathroom and didn't bother to primp the way her sister did, but she had applied a bit of lip gloss for some reason. It had darkened her lips slightly, and went well with her eye color. _You can actually see my eyes, with these newer frames that Quinn had helped pick out. They were much lighter, and she was right, a lot more comfortable. High-index, photochromic lenses that were thinner and double as prescription sunglasses. Yeah, I have to admit, they do look pretty cool._

And her favorite sweater was pretty too. Hunter green cashmere, a going away present from Quinn. She had actually chosen Daria's favorite color, even matching the shade and hue of her stalwart green jacket, something that Daria knew she hated with a passion.

_Trent said I looked good. I suppose I do; Ryan sure thought so. _

_Why did I hang with him at that stupid party? Probably because he looked like he'd rather be somewhere else, and because he was quiet. A quiet jock, such things do exist. And reasonably intelligent. The rest of his teammates that were there were noisy assholes._

_She shook her head, trying but failing to push the memory of that night away. She was drunk. She shouldn't have even been drinking, but she had two beers, mostly out of boredom and nerves. Deidre had dragged her along to that party, and then wandered off with some guy she knew. It was interesting for a little while, watching the interaction around her. A lot like going to the monkey house at the zoo. _

_It was strange watching the girls that she did sort of know shift slightly in personality as they slid into what seemed like a mating ritual; they changed somehow. And the guys there seemed even more stupid than usual, apparently competing for female attention._

_She had left the party with Ryan._

_What the hell was she thinking? She had awoken alongside him the next morning with a headache and the mother of all regrets. It had taken a lot of effort to not leave a vague note and then not sneaking off before he woke up. She wound up avoiding him for weeks, until he stopped trying to talk to her. Yeah, he was nice enough, but that was it._

_What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she separate sex from this need to feel a deep emotional connection? That was why she didn't try to attract men with the way she dressed, or made herself up. Chum the water and you get sharks. She had stopped her habit of dressing to push stupid guys away, but she didn't go out of her way to be attractive. Still, she apparently was decent looking enough to have guys trying to take her out, even when they knew very little about her. _

_She couldn't deny that the male company and attention was a pleasure of sorts, but try as she might to isolate her heart from her physical being, intimacy for her came at an emotional price that she was reluctant to pay._

_If she wanted to pick up guys, she'd do it at the library. She wouldn't have to actually talk and say asinine things, and she could build a little fortress of books. The prospects would judge her by the titles on the spines, and then hopefully move on._

She reached for a tissue and wiped the color off her lips.

* * *

Jane paused, listening hopefully. Nothing. She knocked loudly, just in case. "Just come in already, Jane."

"Did I miss anything, Amiga?" Jane asked, finding a plastic cup and heading into the bathroom for water.

"Like what?" came the monotone reply. "I put a fresh towel out for you. It's hanging on the shower door. You can help yourself to the shampoo and whatever else you need." Daria went back to her laptop.

Ten minutes later, Jane emerged from the bathroom, dressed for the day. She looked around. Daria was laying on the bed, studying the ceiling; Trent was nowhere to be seen. "My brother bailed on us, right?"

"Went off to meet someone. Whatever." Daria's voice was as flat as Jane had ever heard it. "Let's go get some breakfast."

Jane suppressed the urge to heave her brother's bag out the window. _You fucking idiot. And here I thought you had finally grown a brain._

* * *

"This would be easier with Trent's car." Jane leaned up against a dark green Toyota hatchback, less than a decade old. "Where did that jackass go off to? I don't have a key."

"Relax, Jane, BFAC is just a couple of miles away. The weather is decent, so we may as well take advantage of it. This city traffic sucks anyway."

"Doesn't look like it's great for bikes, either."

"It's okay if you stick to residential streets, but you want to stay off the busy thoroughfares." Daria pulled out a folder from her backpack; inside was an area map and a list of places to rent. "We could do this on my laptop, but I don't want to carry the damn thing. We can route using my phone for travel times; we need to get a feel for the areas that would work for both our schools. Anyway, we could take buses if we need to; remember, we planned to do this before Trent invited himself along."

"Think we need to leave a deposit if we find a place we like?"

"Not just yet; we're really doing recon at this point. I printed out some business cards with just our names and a Hotmail address I set up for the housing hunt. It'll give prospective landlords the impression that we're proactive and organized. I already mapped the top five units from the Raft housing office list; we'll map out the possibles from the list you get from BFAC today."

"Impressive, Morgendorffer." _Trent, you are such an idiot. If you had had her as a manager, the Spiral would be signed by a label by now…but then all your butts would have been rearranged, each sporting a nice size 5 boot print. _

"I toplisted the smaller cottages and duplexes; apartments in large complexes usually have rolling sublet tenants as people graduate out of a shared living arrangement. We're more likely to find a place in smaller units where the tenants are actually moving out. Besides, it'll be hard to study in an apartment building full of college kids."

"You're definitely a lawyer's daughter."

"I'm assuming that's not meant as an insult," Daria smirked. She had one more surprise, pulling out a handwritten sheet. "I also spoke to instructors, and had them point me in the direction of their better students, ones that were finishing up. It's a little difficult given the timing; most students graduate in the spring. But I did get some leads, if not the units the students themselves were renting, then the contact info for their landlords as well as any of their friends that were moving on. So, housing possibilities that are conducive to good work and study."

"You amaze me, as usual. This is better than a crime show on TV."

Daria went on. "I called landlords where I could, and if nothing was available, I asked that they refer me to any of their associates that might have a unit opening up. This is the distillate." There were three addresses and notes on the sheet.

Jane's improved mood turned quickly when Trent called after lunch.

"Get your damn butt over here and pick us up," she ordered. "NOW." She thumbed the call end and shoved the phone into her pocket. "Asshole," she muttered.

"What are you upset about?" Daria sighed. "He's your brother. You should be used to the kind of stuff he does."

"Yeah, well, I thought he was coming around. He really seemed to be cleaning up his act, and then he blows you off after he-" Jane fell silent. "Crap."

"I don't want to hear it," Daria said quietly.

Jane watched her friend walk to a bench near the BFAC administration building entrance. She scanned the list of available apartments that Jane had given her, and laid out a map on the bench.

_What the hell are you doing, Trent? This morning, you and Daria are laying together, both of you with these little smiles on your faces. What did you do to her when I went out for my run? Before I left, she was willing to let you share her bed, if only for the sake of your back. When I get back, it's like you turned into something she wanted to scrape off the bottom of her boot with a stick._

They spent the afternoon driving around the area, checking out the various apartment buildings, sublets and cottages from the street. Daria sat in front, navigating.

From the back, Jane noticed her brother glancing over at Daria from time to time. Daria, on the other hand, seemed to prefer looking at her map or out the window.

Some of the places were easily disqualified because of the ruined couches and boxes of beer empties sitting on the curbs. Some had only street parking, which was in short supply. At least they were getting the lay of the land.

"I did want to check out the top three that I mentioned, Jane. They all know we're in the area, and I told them we'd call before coming by."

They proved to be an order of magnitude better than the school-supplied lists. One was a two-bedroom, basement apartment, with the landlord living in the house above. One was a three bedroom unit in a fourplex, with the owner living in a unit in front.

"We'd have to get a third roommate for that one, but it was clean, quiet and reasonably within budget, assuming we can get a roommate that won't stiff us for the rent. I guess I can post at school after the Thanksgiving break, but we might be cutting that one close," Daria said thoughtfully.

"She was pretty impressed with how prepared you were, Daria. I guess we look like nice people," Jane smiled, glancing at her brother. _Even he looks like a responsible adult, dressed like that. And he has a real car now._

"Last one, and I'm suggesting we call it a day," Daria said, dialing the landlord on her cell.

They were greeted at the door of a cottage by an elderly woman. There was a contractor's debris box in the driveway full of discarded sheetrock along with a stack of empty paint cans.

It turned out to be a renovated carriage house that had been turned into a guest cottage. It had two bedrooms, each with a bathroom. There was a small office that had been converted from a laundry room, and it had its own little door that opened into a tiny fenced garden. The rest of the space consisted of a common room, a kitchen along one corner wall and partially partitioned by a breakfast bar. There was even a tiny attached garage, where a washer and dryer sat.

"My husband rented this unit to a couple of Raft football players_._ Turns out they also gave keys out to friends, who would come by with girls to drink and raise hell. They pretty much wrecked the interior, and we just got most of the walls fixed and the repainting done. Now, if you would be so kind, please tell me a little about yourselves."

Jane smiled. The woman was a retired English professor at Raft, and took an immediate liking to Daria. Jane liked her as well, and by the time they were ready to leave, they had been approved as tenants, if they wanted the place. It was going to be finished and available in mid-December, and they were offered the last two weeks of the year free if they would commit before the end of November.

"Well, that was great," Daria smiled. "I expected this to be a lot harder." Her mood was much improved, and Jane had stopped picking on Trent.

As they got back in the car, his cell rang. He pulled it out as Jane frowned. Daria, who was sitting in the front seat, looked resigned as she gazed out the window.

"Hello? Hey, Hi, didn't expect to hear from you so soon…really? Cool. Christmas…sure. I'll talk it over with my sister and…yeah, OK, that makes sense. Sure, I'll swing by tomorrow and fill out the forms. Thanks." He put the phone back in his pocket, a big smile on his face. "You guys up for dinner? I'm buying."

"What the hell was that about, Bro?"

Daria tried to look disinterested.

"I got a job. Here, in Boston. A music store, Ziggy's. It's just a few blocks away from your dorm, Daria."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_**Like a Ton of Bricks**_

"Trent, will you please buy me a drink?" Daria looked like she was on her last nerve. At least the hostess was able to settle them into a quieter booth away from the bar.

"No, but you can steal mine. What do you want me to drink?"

"A beer is fine. Thanks." She leaned back and lightly punched his arm. "Why didn't you tell me you were going for a job interview this morning? I thought you… just didn't want to hang with us."

"I didn't want to jinx it. Besides, if I didn't get the job, I didn't want to bum you or Janey out.

"So you were planning to move up to Boston with Jane? How come I didn't know about this?"

"Because this is the first _I've _heard of it," smiled Jane. "Can't say that I'm surprised, though."

"I missed you, Daria," Trent said quietly but clearly. Under the table, he carefully took her hand.

Jane only saw the shy smile that crossed Daria's face.

"Sooo..." Jane leaned back. "Where were you planning to live?"

"I hadn't gotten that far, but I'll find something," Trent smiled. "Right now, I'm just happy that I'll be in the same town as you two."

"What about that three bedroom unit?" Jane ventured.

"Maybe, but I know you guys really liked that last unit. I think that's the one for you. Can I crash there until I find something? I should buy an air mattress, though."

"Sure, but only if I get some backrubs out of the deal," Daria smirked as she cut into her steak. She glanced at Jane, who stared back at her with her mouth open. "What? It's very relaxing and it puts me to sleep. Too bad he's your brother, it would be too creepy."

* * *

He was careful to put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before he exited the bathroom. Daria had already changed into her long sleeping shirt and a pair of shorts, and was sitting on the bed with her laptop. Jane got up, dropping her sketchbook to the bed. There was a lovely charcoal drawing of an annoyed Daria, giving her the finger. She grabbed her clothes and towel, and pulled Trent close before heading into the bathroom. "Don't mess with her head, bro. If you do I will kill you in your sleep," she whispered. "You better be _damn _sure about what I think you're thinking about."

They waited until they heard the shower running.

"Does the offer still stand?" he asked quietly.

"Promise to keep your hands to yourself?"

"Of course."

"Aww." Daria smiled. "How's your back, old man?"

"Depends." He tilted his head, listening to the shower. "Does this building have plenty of hot water?"

"Huge water heaters, and the dorm is half empty by now."

"Maybe you could rub my shoulders."

She motioned him to the end of the bed, moving into position behind him and surprising him by pulling off his shirt. She repeated the massage that he had given her the night before, working the knots out of his shoulders and neck. She smiled as she heard low groans from him, almost like the purring of a curiously large cat.

_She loved the feel of his musculature, and brought her nose in a little closer than it had to be. She loved his scent._

_ Of course, there had to be more than a neurochemical response. Just what was it about him that she liked so much? He wasn't like most guys she knew; he was a puzzle. On the outside, he was a good looking guy, but certainly not an Adonis. He was skinny, hardly athletic. She'd never seen him participate in any kind of sport; he wasn't a competitive kind of guy, not in the conventional sense._

_The guy she remembered from Lawndale was unfocused, kind of fuzzy around the edges; a narcoleptic mess that hardly seemed capable of accomplishing anything in life._

_ But even then, she was drawn to him. Lazy, unmotivated, directionless. There was something about this gentle, reflective soul that she connected to._

_ And today, he had gotten a job in Boston, somehow gathering up the will to impress. It was something that he wanted, and he was willing to do what it took to go after it. Trent Lane was growing up._

"Thanks, Daria," he whispered. "Your turn now."

"I'm not done," she protested.

"Don't want to be interrupted by Jane," he murmured.

She paused for a moment, and then impulsively put her arms around him, giving him a squeeze. He felt a tiny flush of warmth on his cheek as she blushed furiously, having forgotten that she wasn't wearing a bra under her thin cotton shirt. She didn't pull away, and he found himself leaning into the embrace, savoring the warmth and swell of her breasts against his bare back.

After a long moment she released him, brushing her lips across his ear. He slowly stood, moving onto the bed as she slid forward and sat on the end. He gathered her hair into a ponytail, and brought it around to fall in front of her shoulder. She took it from him, her hand laying across his for a moment.

Drawing his hand away slowly, he brushed an imaginary strand of hair from her cheek, smiling when he found her leaning into his touch.

After a moment, he began on her shoulders, finding them quite tense. She didn't show it, but she had had a stressful day. _She must have thought I was meeting some girl. I should have told her that it was just business, but another woman was the last thing on my mind. But what else would she think? I never told her how I feel about her._ The mutual attraction seemed clear in this moment, but as yet it was unspoken.

He could feel her tremble slightly under his touch. He leaned forward slightly.

"Daria, I think you can tell that I'm…attracted to you, and I'm hoping you're…" he paused, and swallowed hard. This was harder than he thought it would be. What if he was too late? Was she already in a relationship with somebody else?

"I am, Trent," came her soft reply. "I thought I was over you, and maybe I was. But you're not the same guy I had a crush on as a kid in high school." She sighed, willing herself to relax under his touch. "You've changed a lot."

"That started after you left. You were moving on with your life, and I wasn't going to see you any more. Not the way things were, anyway. I didn't realize how much I liked being around you until you were gone."

"To be honest, I almost managed to convince myself that I didn't really miss you because I was trying to forget Lawndale. I was meeting new people, and actually starting to make friends. I fit in here. I actually started going out with a few guys, but it was awkward. I mean, I made some mistakes. A pretty big one in particular, but I learned a lot about myself." She fell silent.

"Sometimes it takes awhile to learn how to embrace life, rather than just going along for the ride," he said quietly. "I know it did for me." He smiled thoughtfully, realizing that she really did trust him.

He began working his thumbs up along the back of her neck, feeling the stiffness dissipate. They sat quietly, enjoying each other's presence.

"I'm moving up here so I don't have to miss you and Janey so much. I started working in Lawndale at Dega Street Musicworks, but it's a small market and the hours aren't enough. I want to help her with money for school. She didn't like the idea that I was going to work just to try and help support her, since I'd be getting little to show for it. Then I told her that I was also doing it because it was time to grow up, and that in the end it would be completely worthwhile."

"You could have come up here yesterday and found out that I had a boyfriend. Would it still be worth it?"

He stopped rubbing her neck. "Yeah, it would. Just having you back in my life, as a friend? Yeah, it would be worth it."

"So why did you say that Jane and I should take the cottage instead of the three bedroom apartment? You could have moved into the third bedroom."

"I dunno, Daria. I just thought that if you _did_ have a boyfriend, or even just wanting to date, I didn't want to be around that much, because it would make you uncomfortable. I know I would be, so why go there?"

"I guess I can see that. Just so you know, I don't have a boyfriend. Dating? Maybe, depends who it is. I'm not my sister, though, I won't date just to do it. And I'm not into casual sex. Remember the big mistake I mentioned? Like I said, I learned something basic about myself."

He smiled gently. "Life. We learn and we go forward. For me, I learned that I shouldn't let important things slip through my fingers." He stopped working on her neck, slipping off the bed. He moved in front of her, expecting her to lay down on her stomach so he could work on her back.

She looked up at him thoughtfully. "I think I understand that too." She stood, putting her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her, and gently lifted her face and kissed her softly. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair and deepened the kiss.

After losing track of the time, they released each other. "Whoa," whispered Trent.

"I agree," murmured Daria. "Backrub?"

"Sure," laughed Trent, "Janey's gonna be done with her shower soon." He knelt down at the end of the bed as Daria settled back down on the bed, face turned to one side. He began to work on her back, rolling the heel of his hands along the sides of her spine. As he reached the small of her back, he cautiously pulled the hem of her shirt up to enjoy the feel of her skin.

"You can go higher than that," she whispered. _Please...?_

He slipped the fabric of her shirt up towards her shoulders, exposing the shoulder blades and the sides of her breasts. He swallowed hard, trying not to do or say something stupid. He gently massaged her back, eliciting soft moans and other interesting noises. He started back down until he reached the hem of her shorts.

"Lower." Was she teasing him? If so, it was driving him nuts.

"Um, I…"

"Coward." She pushed herself up on her elbows, smiling as she wiggled her butt. "Get on the floor. That side." She motioned to the far side of the bed.

He followed her orders and laid down on the floor. Vaguely, he thought about finding his shirt just in case Janey came out of the bathroom. Before he could figure out where she had thrown it, she was straddling him, pulling off her shirt.

He had always known that she was a pretty girl, despite her past habit of hiding herself in clothing that effectively gave no hint of her figure. Hell, he was gobsmacked yesterday when he had seen how good she looked in jeans that fit, as well as that comfy green cashmere sweater. He was not prepared for _this_.

She was a small woman, but she had curves proportioned to her size. She stroked her hands over his hips, and shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable position. "This seat is kinda lumpy," she smiled.

The shower cut off.

Daria snuggled down, pressing herself against Trent's chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight, and kissed her.

They heard the bathroom door open, and Jane stepping into the room.

"Okay, I was turning into a damn prune in there, so I hope you guys are decent," she said loudly.

Daria peeked over the edge of the bed to see Jane drying her hair with a towel. Grabbing her shirt, she pulled it on quickly.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Jane asked. Noting Daria's disheveled state and off-kilter glasses, she smiled. "Never mind." She reached down and picked up Trent's shirt, throwing it in Daria's direction. "Glad you two figured it out. Just don't make me get a hose."

* * *

"Hey, Morgendorffer, wake up," Jane whispered, leaning into her ear. "I'm going for a run. Be back in an hour and a half. Don't waste it."

She waited until Jane locked the door behind her. Rolling over, she smiled as she decided how best to wake the other occupant of the bed.

Flipping off the covers, she began to nibble on his ear. When she saw his eyes flutter open, she lowered her face and nuzzled his shoulder. She slid a hand behind his head, running fingers through his hair. She gently stroked his side with the other, the hand drifting lower. Suppressing the urge to pinch his butt, she pulled away and headed for the bathroom.

"Daria…? he murmured, stretching and then slowly sitting up.

He heard the toilet flush, and then the sink taps as she washed up and brushed her teeth. While he waited, he dug out a razor and deodorant from his bag.

He thought about last night as he shaved and brushed his teeth. _God, she's so much prettier than he remembered. And… aggressive. just before Janey had come out of the bathroom, she had pulled off her shirt. He remembered her lying against his chest, her skin warm, breasts soft against his skin._

He looked down. Damn.

He heard the door push open. She embraced him from behind, her hands slipping under his shirt, sliding up to his chest. He felt her lower her head, and her lips brushed the small of his back.

"Gff hff uff rroww," she growled softly, pulling his shirt up with her teeth. He complied, stripping it off. She lowered her hands to his waist and turned him around, dropping her hands to his bottom for a squeeze.

She slowly pulled off her shirt, and then drew him into a kiss. Her back under his hands was delightfully warm and smooth; the callused tips of his left hand sent shivers across her skin.

Pulling away, she pulled him by the hand to her bed. They lay down together, gently exploring and savoring the closeness, nude under the covers.

"Um…Trent, do you have a condom?"

"Ahh…no. I wasn't actually planning on anything like this. Do you?"

"No, I ran out. Should have gone to the warehouse store last weekend," she deadpanned. "I'm kidding, Trent. Maybe Deidre…" she slid off the bed and crossed over to her roommate's nightstand as Trent admired the view. "Whoa. She's a busy girl."

* * *

"You realize that I wouldn't have done this if I didn't have strong feelings for you, right?" She nuzzled his neck, enjoying the afterglow. _God, that was just incredible._

"Does this mean that you're willing to try a relationship with me?" Trent said quietly, arms around her .

She was quiet for a long moment. "I won't share you, you know. I want a monogamous relationship or none at all. If I find out you've slept with someone else while we're together I'll probably never speak to you again."

"That'll be because Jane would have killed me. Daria, I only want you."

"Good, we understand each other." She slipped out of his embrace and pulled him out of bed. "We should take a shower before Jane gets back." She patted his ass as she glanced longingly at Deidre's nightstand.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_**The Crossing**_

Daria watched as her newly christened boyfriend headed out the door of the diner to finalize his new job. She sat quietly, a look on her face that most would have described as cool and detached.

"So what's wrong?" Jane asked, stirring a packet of sugar into her coffee. "Having second thoughts?"

"I'm finding it hard to believe that I actually jumped your brother like that."

"You're not the only one," Jane smiled. "You know, I've always thought that you were kinda squicked about such activities in general. I mean, you always seemed to repress that sort of thing before."

"Yeah." She stirred her coffee absently. "It's funny to say this, but in a way Quinn's the same way. She used to use that obsession with her appearance to avoid exposing who she was. You know she saw dating as a competitive sport? She was so damn _plastic_, and when you get down to it, she was never into those guys that she attracted."

"What happened with her?"

"She finally _did_ let herself get emotionally involved, and it blew up in her face. It kinda turned things upside down for her, and she stepped back to reevaluate herself."

"So what just happened with _you?"_

"I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure that out. I either just had a breakthrough of sorts, or I just made a huge mistake." Daria looked up from her coffee. "I mean, we're kind of an odd couple."

Jane laughed. "I always thought that was the part that made it so fascinating. I used to imagine what it would be like with you and he a _thing_, and it was kinda morbid curiosity that made me try and get you guys together."

"Thanks a lot, Lane," Daria smirked.

"Seriously, I think it's pretty cool. Things have changed, and you both are different people today. You're questioning things you took as axiomatic not that long ago, and he's landed a real job- with you as part of the cause. So, cool."

"I don't fully understand what it is that draws me to him."

"See? You _used_ to reject things out of hand that you didn't understand."

* * *

"Honestly, Daria, I thought you had more sense than that," Helen said, trying to stay calm. "You're much too young to be limiting yourself like this." _This was something that she had dreaded, although she had hoped that her eldest would be more rational._

"It's not like I'm marrying the guy, Mom." Daria's voice was charged, even though she spoke with restraint. This wasn't something best discussed over a phone; although the distance did provide something of a buffer. Still, her voice was oddly expressive, something Helen was not used to. "I've always liked him, even though it was something I never thought would ever amount to anything."

"And _now_ you think it will? Daria, you need to think about this. How could you ignore the way he is? He's not accomplished anything, despite his age. How could he possibly be someone-"

"He's changed, Mom."

"Not bloody likely, Daria." Helen stopped pacing and sat down at the kitchen table. "I've met him, you know. He's never held a real job in his life. How could you even think that he's someone that could-"

"He's working, Mom. He's here because he's going to help Jane get through school."

"What's he doing? Delivering pizzas for minimum wage and tips? Is he that good in bed that you can't see how _stupid _you're being?"

The silence on the line was deafening.

"Daria…"

_"Screw_ you."

"That's an intelligent response. He's rubbing off on you, I see." _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ "He's a lazy, unmotivated loser that'll never get anywhere. Are you going to support him? Surely there are suitable candidates with some kind of a _future_ that you can sleep with? Why him? Do you like being smarter than everyone around you? Is that it? Are the boys at Raft just as smart as you? Is that the problem?"

There was another silence.

"Just what the _hell_ is wrong with you, Helen?"

* * *

_Just what's going on with Mom? Is she talking to Daria?_

There was an exasperated cry and a loud crack, followed by the slamming of the front door. Worried, Quinn stuck her head into the hallway just as a car door slammed hard, the engine started with a roar, and the sound of squealing tires died away. _What was that noise in the house?_

She hurried down the stairs, and walked into the kitchen. Something crunched under her shoe, and she looked down.

Bits of glass sparkled across the floor, and the mangled frame of Mom's Blackberry was embedded in the wall across from the kitchen table.

_Shit._

Pulling her own cell from her pocket, she hit Daria's speed dial. The call went immediately to voicemail.

"Sis, are you okay? Can you call me, please?"

Quinn pulled the remains of the phone out of the wall and dropped it into a ziploc bag. The battery had been thrown clear of the phone, and was making a strange sound. An acrid, chemical smell began to build, and she noted with alarm that the battery was badly damaged and was starting to smoke. She raced to the utensil drawer, grabbed a spatula and carried the battery outside, setting it on a stepping stone in the yard just as it burst into flame. She stepped away, and watched it from behind the sliding patio door until it looked like it had burned itself out.

_God, Mom, you could have burned the damn house down._

Sweeping up the glass, she checked once more to make sure the battery was no longer a fire hazard. At least the stone wasn't near anything flammable.

Her sister called just as she was finishing up her History paper.

"Daria, are you okay?"

"I suppose," came the strained reply. "I managed to piss off Mom big time."

"That part I got. What happened?" Quinn picked up the plastic bag, wondering which little bit of plastic was the phone's GSM chip.

"I told her that I was in a relationship with Trent, Jane's brother. I figured she should know, since he, Jane and I will be sharing a place starting the middle of December."

"So?" Quinn smiled. "What's wrong with that? He's a pretty nice guy."

"It's a two bedroom place. He and I will be sharing a bed."

"And Mom got bent. If I recall, she was a lot busier than that at your age."

"Exactly. I'm really not sure why she got so pissed. I know that he and I seem like an unlikely match, so I figured that she'd just write it off as something that I'd get over. It wasn't like that, she got really nasty about it, and I guess I didn't take her comments well either. I'll call her later when she has a chance to calm down."

"You'll have to call her at home or at the office. I think her phone battery is kinda dead."

"She wasted her phone."

"Oh yeah. Even bent the battery, and it shorted out. That's why I called. I was worried about you fighting with Mom. Listen, I'll see if I can find out why the hell she's so upset."

"Thanks, Quinn."

"No problem, Sis."

* * *

Quinn rinsed off the dinner dishes and loaded the dishwasher as she watched her parents in heated discussion out on the patio. Her mother was speaking animatedly, her arms moving angrily as she made a point. She was on something of a quiet tirade, clearly arguing for a plan of action that her Dad seemed not entirely convinced of. He seemed to occasionally push back, only to be immediately shut down. After almost an hour, most of which seemed to be Helen venting, they came back inside.

"Stay off the house phone, Quinn, I'm expecting office calls tonight." She turned and walked up the stairs, briefcase in hand.

Jake crossed over to the liquor cabinet, and paused, hand on the door pull. After a long moment, he turned away and walked out the front door, closing it behind him without a word.

Quinn dried her hands on a kitchen towel and hurried out the front door, hoping to speak to her father.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_**A Life on Her Own**_

"My parents are upset with this living arrangement, it seems."

After a long moment, Trent broke the question. "How bad is it?"

Daria's eyes fell to the floor. "It's really mostly my mom. They're not going to pay for my housing, as long as I insist on going forward with this."

Jane said nothing, but her anger was clear. _Daria's the happiest I've ever seen her, and they want to take that away from her. Wonder if they'd feel the same way if it was Tom she was moving in with. Helen just doesn't think that Trent is good enough for her._

Trent stepped over to Daria and gathered her in his arms. "In a way, I guess I can see why. They want you to succeed, and they're afraid that I'll be a distraction. I should find another place. At least I'll be nearby."

"I don't want you to leave. I'm so pissed off at my parents that I'm ready to call them on it. I've got enough saved up to make rent through the next semester. It's their right to feel the way they do, and it's their money. Okay; I've got my tuition covered for two years with grants and scholarships. Maybe they'll cut me off. Well, I guess I'll see how far I can go on my own. If I can't, so be it. I'll drop back into whatever credit hours I can afford. Maybe I won't finish in four years, maybe no grad school. Whatever. Why is it so bad to want to be happy? Other people make it on their own, so I guess I can do it if I have to, student loans and all."

"Daria, college-" Trent began.

"Stay," she snapped. "Guess I'm not going home for Christmas. I'm _already_ home. Jake and Helen can go to hell." Daria got up and walked to their bedroom. "Trent, I'll be okay. I just need to be alone for awhile."

Jane and Trent watched her leave and close the door behind her.

Trent settled heavily onto the ratty sofa. _Am I worth it? I know what her mom is thinking. Daria's so upset that she can't see it._

"I've never seen her that pissed before," Jane murmured. "You're about to see just how stubborn your girlfriend is." She studied her brother on the sofa.

"Trent, what the hell are you thinking? I don't like that look on your face."

"It'd be smarter for me to move out."

"That would be giving in, and Daria is not going to do that. I have the feeling that a Cold War has just started."

"Seriously, if her parents cut her off, would she really drop out of Raft?"

"You heard what she said. Her parents were going to pick up the tuition that her scholarships and grants didn't cover, and Raft is a hell of a lot more expensive than BFAC. Her tuition's more than thirty grand a year. She could scrape by if she worked a lot of hours through college, but it would be really hard for her to maintain the GPA she wants to, and it's not likely she'll make it in four years. Otherwise, she'd run up a huge student loan obligation."

"She mentioned making the next few months on savings," Trent sighed. "Is that the stash she calls her _Montana Cabin Fund?"_

"Yeah, although it was more recently known as the _decent used car and pizza fund_. Guess things are gonna be a little tight around here. Gonna share your car?"

"Of course. Glad I managed to get one that's pretty reliable and cheap to run."

"You know how moody she can get, right? Promise me you're not gonna bail on her. She needs you now more than ever, maybe more than me."

"It would be better-"

"Shut the fuck up. If you left her now it would break her. I know her, bro. She's a lot more fragile on the inside than you think. Don't you dare pull that Martyr crap on her. When it comes to rational matters, to things like studying and working hard, she's like made of steel. This kind of stuff? You _know_ how hard it is for her to show her feelings to anyone else besides you and I."

"I'm not gonna blow this, Janey, I'll do whatever it takes."

Jane smiled. "She can get kinda bossy once she gets relaxed around you."

"She likes to be on top."

"I don't need those kinds of details from you, bro," Jane wrinkled her nose.

"Um, I meant that she usually has good ideas and naturally takes charge of a situation," Trent flushed.

"You _do_ know that she makes mistakes too, right?"

"Maybe there's a silver lining here," Trent said, looking out the window.

"If there is, rip it out and sell it."

* * *

"Quinn? Listen, can we not exchange gifts this year? Money's kind of tight, and…yeah, I'm not coming for Christmas. Sorry you're getting caught in the crossfire…yeah, well, I seems that what I really want doesn't count for much." Daria sighed, and stopped pacing. She dropped onto the old sofa, and took a deep breath. "Can you put Mom on?"

Jane and Trent exchanged worried looks.

"Hello…Mom." Daria's voice had snapped back into her old monotone. "I'm sorry you and Dad don't agree with my choice. No, I won't be coming…I'll make some arrangements to have the rest of my things removed…no, it's quite simple; I am angry because for the first time in my life I find myself truly happy, and I am refusing to give up that happiness…no, I'll be working part time, so I'll be cutting my spring semester back to twelve credits. I'll make enough to cover food and to put away for school. My scholarships and grants will cover a bit more than half of my total tuition, so if you plan to cut me off, please let me know so I can figure out how to pay for things…no, I'm not happy about _that,_ but if you and Dad can't be happy for me finally finding someone, I'm truly sorry. You can remodel my- the room as soon as my _residue_ is removed. I'll make arrangements to get it cleared out. I'm sure it'll make a great office…no, I don't think I'll be begging…you don't beg from your mother yourself, do you?"

There was an extended silence, and Daria could no longer hold back the emotion in her voice as it finally broke. "Goodbye."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_**A Little Chutzpah**_

"Marlene, could you come in here?"

The Senior Editor straightened her skirt before heading for the corner office.

Grace Hanlon was not one to waste time on protocol, so Marlene Michaelson simply presented herself to the CEO, slightly winded from the brisk walk.

"This press release and statement," Grace said simply, pushing a sheet forward on her desk, "is very well done. It follows my notes and outline and presents the correct tone. But this, ah, _suggested _alternate…" Marlene swallowed. _Shit. There were two pages there? _Grace's infamous red pen lay uncapped on the open folder, but there were no marks on the sheets.

"Who wrote these?"

"A recent part-time hire. Daria Morgendorffer, a student at Raft."

"Smart girl." Grace picked up the sheet with the yellow post-it note. "She seems to have clearly understood the intent, and her alternate is exceptionally well thought out, to the point, and leaves the reader feeling that they fully grasp the situation. She did that in only three sentences." A smile flickered across her face. "Let's go with hers. Make sure the spokesperson delivers it at a bit of a slower pace, and with a little gravitas. It'll be devastating. Did you ask her to prepare this alternate?"

"No, I proofread the release without realizing that she had included a second sheet there. I should have caught it."

"Understandable. I would have done the same thing, given the way I push you all. In fact, I'm glad you didn't. What do you know about this Morgendorffer?"

"She's extremely intelligent. Wants to be a writer; kind of quiet. A dry, sardonic wit. Her paternal grandfather was _Mad Dog_ Morgendorffer, a Bronze Star veteran of the Korean conflict. She didn't volunteer that information; she wasn't bragging. I thought the name was unusual and familiar; I did my thesis on an aspect of that conflict. I asked her about it, and she confirmed it. Her mother's side are the Barksdales of Leeville, Virginia. Mother's a lawyer, recently made partner.

"Brains _and_ mettle."

"I get the impression that she doesn't get along with her parents."

"Ah. That explains why she's working. Her family should be able to fully cover a Raft education."

"She's got scholarships and merit grants, but she's only doing twelve credits this semester. Needs the work hours."

"Pity. Keep an eye on her. She's got real talent; don't lose her. Try her out, let her do a small feature."

* * *

"How's the job going?" Jane asked, pulling the leftover casserole from the microwave.

Daria saved the file and moved her computer off the kitchen table. "Pretty good. It's challenging and it pays better than working in the school bookstore. My editor's given me an assignment that I can work on on my own, so I'll get paid as a feature writer for that piece."

"Wait, I thought it was a PR firm or something. That sounds like a news magazine or paper."

"Hanlon, Page and Myers is a web content provider, mostly for liberal and progressive enterprises and organizations. It's a consultancy and service bureau that does research and analysis. Kind of like a law firm, but they deal with ethics, ideas and principles, not law. In a way, more rhetoric than reportage."

"How'd you find this gig, anyway?"

"Head of the journalism school."

_Geeez, Morgendorffer. Maybe Trent was right, there might be a silver lining here after all. _


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_**Sisters**_

"Ms. Morgendorffer, may I have a word with you?" Mr. DeMartino said gruffly as the class filed out. Stacy Rowe shot Quinn an alarmed look, but Tiffany and Sandi ignored it and walked away.

"See you later, Stacy," Quinn smiled gamely, waving her on.

"I'm pleased to see you moving on with your life, Ms. Morgendorffer. I just wanted to say that your work this year has greatly exceeded my expectations. You clearly are an intelligent young woman. Why you chose to hide it these past few years is your own business, but I am sorry that you've limited your own options for higher education. You are planning to attend college, I assume?"

"Yes, sir." Quinn shifted uncomfortably, noting that he was holding the paper she had just turned in.

"Have you spoken to your academic counselor yet?"

"Yes." Quinn flushed as she recalled the meeting. "I'll be enrolling in summer classes at Lawndale Community College, and then continuing at Lawndale State in the fall. I'm hoping to improve my academic standing, and then perhaps moving on to a better school."

DeMartino gave her a broad, if not slightly frightening smile. "Excellent. The choices we make today have repercussions that reach far into the future." With that, he turned away from Quinn, and began reading her paper.

He looked up briefly as the young woman walked out the door. _Good for you, Quinn._

* * *

"Congratulations, Sis," came a soft voice behind her, barely audible in the press and clamor of people searching for friends and relations after the Graduation ceremony.

Quinn turned quickly, almost losing her mortarboard. "Daria! You came!"

Daria held out a single red rose and a small box wrapped in coppery metallic paper. "It's not much, but…"

"Oh, Sis, you didn't have to do this. Just seeing you here is enough."

"Open it, so you don't have to carry that box around."

"Daria…" Quinn said softly, looking at the ring and bracelet, nestled in a square of pink silk. "This is just beautiful!" She carefully picked up the bracelet, slipping it on, and turned the ring in her fingers. Each was crafted of two intertwined strands of metals, one a rich, reddish tint, the other a deep red-bronze. The metals tangled, then lay together, and then folded over each other as they ran around the perimeters of each piece. _"This is you and I._ Thanks, this really means a lot to me."

Daria looked at Quinn, who was blinking back tears. "The ring is from me, and the bracelet is from Jane and Trent. They send their congratulations, but I thought that it would be better if I came alone. Less awkward that way. Jane and I designed these, and one of the instructors at BFAC fabricated them."

"They are beautiful, sis. How did they get these colors?"

"The metal is a Titanium alloy, and each color is a separate piece. The metals are formed together, interlocking, then taken apart and finished individually. They get put back together, and then locked in place."

"Even the process is metaphorical, then," Quinn smiled, slipping the ring on. Before Daria could step back, she gave her big sister a hug.

Just then, their parents had found them in the crowd; Daria's plans for a clean getaway were dashed.

Helen, ever the reader of people, nodded at her eldest. "A truce, then, for Quinn?"

* * *

Dinner was agonizing.

"You're driving back to Boston tonight? You just got here," Helen said irritably.

"I came here for Quinn's graduation. She's off with her friends, so I'll be leaving now. It's getting late and I've got a long drive ahead of me, so goodbye." She turned and walked out the door, not looking back. With a sigh, she dropped into the driver's seat of Trent's car and started the engine. Pausing, she pulled out her phone.

"Hey, Trent, I'm leaving Lawndale now. See you in six hours."

"Daria, if you get too tired to drive, find a motel. Just call and let me know. I can give them my credit card info over the phone if you need me to. I don't care what time it is, call me."

_Sure, I barely have enough to cover gas and coffee._ "See you, okay?"

Hanging up, she turned in her seat to back out of the driveway when she heard a knock on the window.

"Kiddo, I love you. Take this in case you need to find a place to sleep. No sleeping at rest stops, find a safe motel." Her dad handed her some folded notes before leaning in and kissing her on her forehead.

"Thanks, Dad," she smiled, slipping the money into her breast pocket.

Three hours later, she pulled off the interstate. After gassing up and finding a strong cup of coffee, she remembered and pulled out the folded notes. _Five hundred twenty dollars?_

* * *

Back in Lawndale, Helen turned off her bedside lamp before turning to Jake.

"Did she take the money?"

"I put a twenty dollar bill around it, and told her it was for a motel room."

"Good."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

_**You Could Cry, or You Could Laugh**_

_ "_Damn, it's a full house tonight," Jane smiled, looking out at the audience. They were sitting on the stage apron, where she could sketch from the side.

Daria took the bottle from Jane, and held it up. "Leave some for him," she muttered.

"I _thought_ that was you," came a familiar voice. "You're looking great!"

"Aunt Amy?" Daria smiled. "I thought you were still overseas."

"Finished up my dissertation a week ago. So this is the guy that you and Helen are fighting over," Amy smiled, looking at Trent. "Why don't you join me at my table? You too, Jane, right?"

Jane smiled, doing a double take at the two women. "You really _do_ look like sisters now. Sure, after I finish this. Artwork for a flyer."

"My boyfriend told me I'd like this singer. Had no idea it was your Trent. How long has he been playing the _Blue Moon?"_

"Since the beginning of November. It's been kinda tough for him getting a gig in this town, but he's on his way. He's been doing Friday nights now for two weeks."

She followed her aunt back to her table. "Daria, this is my significant other, Doctor William Reichert. Bill, this is my niece, Daria Morgendorffer. That's her boyfriend on stage, and his sister Jane off to the side."

"Your younger sister, I'd have thought," Bill smiled. "I've heard a lot of good things about you, Daria."

"I'm assuming that you didn't hear it from my mother."

"_Brilliant, headstrong, multi-talented, and beautiful._ From your aunt. Seeing as you two seem so much alike, I'd have to agree."

Daria blushed, smiling at the older couple. "Thank you. Amy is probably closer to my mother than I am, these days."

"Glad Amy found you here; I've got to run." He held up a smartphone, the screen filled with some kind of changing graph and numerical readouts. "Duty calls, unfortunately. It was nice at least meeting you, Daria." He leaned over, giving Amy a kiss, and whispered in her ear. Standing, he waved goodnight to them and hurried for the door.

"Cardiac surgeon," Amy sighed. "Always, it's about the heart," she smiled ruefully, shaking her head.

"Have to agree on that, Aunt Amy," Daria laughed bitterly. _I would never have allowed that cliche if this was one of my stories._

Amy tilted her head, frowning slightly, studying her niece.

"Daria, do you need some help? You can't keep this up. Your scholarships and grant money-"

"…Run out this coming spring semester. That's the end of my sophomore year. I was working almost full time over this past summer to save more money; right now I've cut back my work hours so I can focus on school. I'll be dropping Raft after that; the State school is much cheaper, and I don't want to run up sixty grand in student loans. And thank you, I won't accept money from Helen and Jake, directly or through you. My diploma won't have the cachet of a top University, but I know what I can do."

"You were planning to go to graduate school."

"Life happens." Daria paused, and then decided to tell her aunt. "Trent and I are probably getting married after I graduate. That'll be my reward for busting my ass. At least I'll have done it on my own terms; maybe our finances will be in better shape by then."

"Probably?"

"Well, we've been together over a year now, and assuming we make it through my senior year…"

"Well, congratulations will be in order, I hope. You seem pretty sure of yourself." Amy smiled broadly for a moment, and then paused. "Does Helen-"

"No."

"Jesus, Daria, aren't you being kind of hard on your parents?"

"Amy, you know what kind of parents they were," Daria said quietly. "You know what really matters to your sister. She made partner, she got what she wanted and to hell with what she let fall through the cracks on her way up there. If not for Jane, and now Trent, I'd have come apart a long time ago. That guy may never be a star, but he is one to me. Helen and Jake tried to pull us apart but the opposite happened. He's killing himself to keep us going. Jane and I were budgeting to split the rent, but he's been paying for all of the rent and most of the food."

Amy watched Trent for a long moment before she responded. "You might be wrong. He's damn good, and he might make it yet."

"I'm hoping so too, but I'm too pragmatic to count on a dream. I did for years, and it kind of came apart."

"Your parents love you. They thought-"

"I love my parents, deep down inside. I just can't bring myself to forgive them right now." Daria fell silent, closing her eyes, listening to Trent on stage. _His voice soothes me…_

Trent finished up his set to a warm ovation. Daria stood up and waved at him, motioning him over. He nodded, closed up his guitar case, and set it behind the stage.

_It was pretty clear that nothing Helen and Jake could do would keep these two apart. Amy smiled at the way her once stoic niece interacted with the two Lane siblings- she and Jane had the kind of friendship she envied. _

_She remembered Daria as a young teenager, too damn smart and sensitive for her own good. And, despite the cold front she defended herself with, the thing that worked against her was the basic fact that the girl cared. She cared about what she believed in, and so she hurt at the most fundamental level. When she had heard about Jane, Amy began to think that there really was a God after all. Without her, Daria would have been miserable. _

_And her boyfriend- she had known about that crush that Daria had on that handsome young man; back then, a slacker musician that deeply concerned her parents. Despite Daria's belief that Helen was clueless about her children, Amy knew that her sister was quite aware of that. She also knew her daughter well enough to know that she was smart enough to take care of herself. _

_But this was different. _

_She had never seen Daria truly happy before. And from what Amy could see, the young man was her strength. It was obvious what was behind the music she had heard tonight. _

Daria watched Trent and Jane slowly making their way to the table, slowed by several enthusiastic teenage girls wanting his autograph.

"Mom felt that I was making a mistake, so she made a decision for me, and Dad went along with it." Her expression darkened as she went on. "Didn't he know that Mom was worried that Trent was going to be just like _him?_ Somebody to hold the woman back, someone the woman had to take care of? To say that I felt violated would be about right."

Amy let Daria compose herself, and couldn't think of anything to say. In many ways Daria was right.

After a moment, she went on. "But… Jake is my Dad. As messed up and dysfunctional as he is, I always knew that he loved Quinn and I. And no matter how frustrated Mom got with him, they somehow made it work. They _still_ love each other."

Amy shook his hand as Trent settled into a chair next to Daria. Despite having missed the entire conversation, it was clear that he could sense Daria's stress from a single brief glance. Wordlessly, he put his arm around her and gave her a little hug as she briefly put her head on his shoulder.

_Jake. Why had Helen, so brilliant and ambitious, so determined to prove herself to their parents, chosen him? He was a smart guy, but so crippled emotionally-he would easily fly off in a rage, railing against the powers that had pushed him into an imagined corner; cowed him until he lashed out with a vengeance. Wild, unbridled, hair-triggered passion and fury. Yet, he had never laid a hand on Helen or the girls. What was it like growing up in a household like that?_

_Daria; brilliant, yet closed tight. Was that how the girls coped? Had they inherited Jake's manic sensitivity, and learned to rein it in so they could function? Daria had to build impenetrable walls, like the casing of a bomb; and she had her mask of iron Stoicism. Quinn had her mask of Teflon superficiality. _

_Morgendorffer temper and hypersensitive imagination, blended with the Barksdale intellect and stubborn streak. God, what a formula._

_Amy's lips curved up in a smile as she watched the young couple across the table. Daria, despite her apparent disappointment in this dark comedy called life, could still love._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_**A Little Help**_

_Damn smart people. My sister is too smart and stubborn for her own good. _

"Thanks, Quinn, Amy sighed. "I hope you can get through to her. Maybe your sister and Helen can get through this on their own, but it doesn't have to be so damn _difficult."_

Amy glanced at the young woman next to her. She had worried that her small Triumph convertible wouldn't accommodate the luggage she expected Quinn to have, so she had thrown some bungees and cord in the back in case she had to use the small luggage rack on the trunk lid. Bill was at a conference at MIT and had to take his car, since he was driving three colleagues. Surprisingly, Quinn had shown up at Logan with only a carryon, and was dressed quite professionally.

"She's my sister, Aunt Amy. Maybe we fought when we were younger, but we've kind of found common ground. Besides, if it was me in trouble I know Daria would be right there for me."

_She's growing up. In some ways it's harder for a pretty woman to learn the things that really matter in life; she was such a brat only a couple of years ago._

"Okay, this is her office. Give me a call if you need me to pick you up." She stopped in front of the modern glass tower. "Sixth floor; Hanlon, Page and Myers. Jane says she's supposed to be breaking for lunch around one-thirty. Good luck."

Checking the building directory, she noted the suite number and located the cluster of elevators. A soft chime sounded behind her, and she stepped into the elevator, nodding to the handsome, impeccably dressed woman already inside. She carried a discreetly elegant briefcase instead of a purse. Turning to the floor buttons, she saw that the sixth floor was already selected. The older woman noticed, and smiled.

"Ms. Morgendorffer?"

Startled, Quinn gave her a polite smile. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

The older woman chuckled, extending a hand. "No, but you and Daria look alike. You are both quite attractive women, even if your sister seems indifferent to the fact. My name is Grace Hanlon."

"Quinn Morgendorffer." The elevator glided to a stop.

"Your sister Daria is an impressive woman. She was hired as a junior writer, to produce such mundane things as press releases. Normally, I make sure that such work is reviewed and corrected, but in her case that's been entirely unnecessary. She's advanced quite quickly, and I recently had her working on several feature items. She's quite tenacious and thorough."

Grace opened the door to the suite, and laughed when she noted the surprised expression on another woman, who was speaking to the receptionist. "Marlene, I found you another Morgendorffer!" Turning, she once again smiled. "Quinn, it's been a pleasure. Sorry for running off, but I've got to go and ruin a deserving politician's day."

The other woman nodded to Grace and extended her hand to Quinn.

"Marlene Michaelson. I'm Daria's editor, although she might be _my _editor if I'm not careful. Maybe you can get that workaholic sister of yours to eat lunch."

"Quinn Morgendorffer," she replied. "A pleasure to meet you. I hope my sister isn't giving you ulcers." Marlene laughed and motioned her across the lobby and into another hallway.

"Daria expects from others what she herself is willing to do, which is to say a hell of a lot; and she doesn't suffer fools well." Pale gray cubicles were visible as they walked past open doors, their occupants busily studying multiple monitors and newsfeeds.

"I recently promoted your sister to an assistant editor, but I can't give her a private office with her limited hours. Still, I'm lucky to have her. There she is."

Marlene pointed Quinn down an aisle of cubicles. Daria was standing, phone in hand, looking out of a window and shaking her head.

"No, I _specifically_ said that you had to vet those claims before going any further. If you get that done by five, we can talk then. Otherwise, you'll have to bug Marlene about this." She slammed the phone down.

"_Idiot,"_ joined a familiar voice in unison, behind her.

Turning, Daria laughed. "Quinn."

"It's good to see you, sis."

"What are you doing here?"

"Imposing on my big sister. Your editor says you need to eat. C'mon, I'm buying."

"Quinn-"

"Don't give me crap, sis. It's my money, although Aunt Amy paid for my plane ticket. Mom doesn't know, she thinks I'm visiting Stacy. Got a couch?"

"Are you inviting yourself over?"

"Only if you don't ask me first. Just one night, please, Daria?" Quinn looked her in the eye.

Daria was silent for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But you'll have to come with Jane and I; we always go to Trent's Friday night gig and drive home together. He's on at nine; we pick him up from the music store at eight; we grab something light to eat on the way."

Quinn waited as Daria logged off her computer. She picked up an apple and put it back into an open brown paper bag.

"Do you need to put that in a refrigerator?"

"It's just a peanut butter sandwich. It'll keep." They headed back towards the lobby. "Ian, nice job on that rewrite," Daria said as she paused at a cubicle. "Let Marlene have a last look, but I'd say it's good to go." The rumpled young man, who looked older than Daria, flashed a wide but nervous smile. His eyes widened as he noticed Quinn standing behind her. Daria pretended not to notice, but a quiet, worried voice was heard coming from the opposite cube as they walked away. "Aw, crap, there's _two_ of them now."

Quinn smiled to herself. _She's just like Mom._

"Stuff it," Daria glared at her sister.

They entered the lobby. "Nicole, I'll be back in half an hour," Daria said to the receptionist.

"An hour, Morgendorffer," called Marlene, passing behind them. Nicole smiled at Quinn, giving her a little wink.

"When does Trent start his day job?" Quinn asked, surprised at the silent speed of the elevator.

"He and Jane leave the house at eight thirty; she drops him off on the way to BFAC. He's a section manager, so he has to start before everyone else does. He puts in a ten hour day, pretty much; on the nights he doesn't have a gig he teaches guitar to about twelve private students."

"Sounds kinda rough," Quinn said after a moment.

"Yeah," Daria sighed.

* * *

"So, any good lunch places around here?"

"I don't know," Daria mumbled.

Quinn frowned. She stepped over to the bell captain at the hotel they were standing in front of. After a moment of conversation and gesturing, she thanked him and walked back. "A good deli across the street, a fish place in that direction and the best pizza in Boston over there."

"Tough choice," deadpanned Daria.

"So how do you get around?" Quinn asked casually, sliding into the booth.

"Jane or Trent drop me off; otherwise the bus. If it's just to school, I can walk if the weather is OK, and our landlady had a moped that some tenant left dismantled in the garage. Trent and one of the guys from the music store got it running for me. It works, but it's a pain in the ass when it rains around here.

"You need a car."

"Yeah, well, forget it. I need a lot of things, but I deal." Daria fixed her sister with a glare. "Quinn, not that it's not nice to see you, but why are you here?"

"Practicing a little shuttle diplomacy, genius," Quinn shot back. "Or you could call it an intervention. Or a conspiracy, or whatever you want. I'm here because I love you and you are pissing me off being a goddam martyr. You're screwing yourself because you and mom are going at it just like Barksdale women always do. Dad and I are caught in the crossfire, and dammit, it's hard on him." Quinn stopped, seeing the rage building in her sister's eyes.

She twisted the top off the wine cooler and took a sip. "I'm not saying that you're not justified, or that you're not right." She waited until some of the heat had left Daria's eyes, and then she slowly slid the bottle forward. "Aunt Amy's tried talking to Mom, and you know how that probably went. And _you_ won't talk to her, not really. Daria, Amy and I are neutral parties in this. I hope you understand that Mom didn't put me up to this. Barksdale women have too much pride to stoop to that kind of obvious tactic."

Daria dropped her gaze. "Yeah. We use much more subtle approaches, like waiting for hell to freeze over." She took a sip of the cooler.

Just then the pizza arrived. "Here ya go, ladies. Enjoy." The waiter retreated, and they caught his editorial comment muttered under his breath. "Stoopid pizza."

The sisters looked at the lopsided concoction in front of them. Half deluxe with everything except anchovies and pineapple, and half cheeseless.

"Stoopid," they both repeated, laughing.

"God, this is really good," Daria moaned.

"Stop that. It's pizza, not your boyfriend." She poked at her sorry looking slice on the plate.

"Cheese is right there," Daria indicated the shaker full of grated Parmesan.

"Can I try some of that?"

"You bought it."

"God, this _is _really good." Looking around, she spotted her wine cooler on Daria's side of the table, half empty. Grabbing Daria's drink, she glanced at the bottle. "What the hell is _Konbucha?_

"Japanese kelp tea. Not to be confused with _Kom_bucha_,_ which is really disgusting."

"You want this?"

"Trade."

"As if." Quinn got up, and exchanged it for another cooler.

"Can you get me one of those fake IDs?" Daria asked, smirking.

Quinn pulled it out of her wallet and looked at it, and then at Daria. A small half-smile appeared on her face.

"Take it. Just take off your glasses, and tell them you just dyed your hair. I've got another."

* * *

"Thanks for lunch, Quinn. I've got to get back to work now. Make sure you're back here by seven PM; here's my card. Show it to the security desk and they'll call me, and then they'll let you up."

"Will do. Hey, and Daria? You look great. Very professional, competent and confident."

Daria was silent for a moment. "Thank you, Quinn. As a matter of fact, I would describe you the same way."

"You know, Ms. Hanlon knew I was your sister when she saw me. I guess we do look alike." Quinn smiled at Daria. "I'm proud to be your sister. Everyone I've met here respects and admires you. So do I, you know, so you need to stop acting so _stoopid."_

* * *

_ I can see that Mom was completely wrong about Trent. He isn't the same guy Mom remembers- he's grown up. Dammit, Mom, this guy would do anything for your little girl. He's the one keeping Daria and Jane afloat, he keeps her focused on her studies and her work, and he makes her happy. Does he really love Daria? Mom, all you have to do is sit and listen to his music. _

_ Why do you think Grandma Barksdale hated Dad? He wasn't good enough for you in her eyes. Just like you think Trent isn't good enough for Daria. You fell in love with Dad and even though he drives you crazy sometimes, you still, deep inside, love him._

Quinn sat behind Trent on the drive home, Jane next to her, working out a composition in a sketchbook. Something had clicked in the artist's head, and she had turned on a small flashlight that she held in her teeth while she furiously worked to get the idea on paper. The car's cabin light would make it hard for Trent to drive because of the glare; a light rain was falling and he leaned forward slightly, watching for road hazards.

"Give it here, Jane," Quinn said, taking the flashlight carefully from her mouth. She backed off with it, making a larger pool of light.

"Thanks, Quinn," Jane smiled, flipping the page and continuing her work. Quinn watched, fascinated, as shapes and shadows flowed like magic from the soft pencil held in Jane's flying fingertips. She was just so focused on what she did, and while Quinn would admit to knowing little about fine art, she sensed that she was watching real talent at work.

All of them were talented. Daria, of course; Quinn had subsumed her envy with contempt for years, only recently admitting that her big sister had been right about almost everything, and wishing that she had had the sense to listen.

And this Trent-so different from the _loser_ that had fronted Mystik Spiral for years- had written and performed songs tonight that had touched her to the core. She smiled, remembering how her stressed-out sister had sat quietly, his eyes locked with hers across the restaurant; in their own way making up for missed time together.

Even in the car she noticed the glances between the two, the small smiles that flitted across her sister's face, and she felt a tiny stab of jealousy. Not for the way her big sister seemed to hold all the answers, but for the unspoken grace that was the bond between two people in love. Her sister had found someone that would do anything for her, and she in turn was willing to recast her dreams for him. Quinn hoped that one day, she could do the same.

* * *

Quinn opened her eyes with a start, momentarily disoriented. Sitting up, she stretched and noticed Jane sitting at the little kitchen table, charcoal pencil in hand, scowling at her.

"You moved."

"Well, yeah," Quinn yawned, "I'm not dead yet, you see."

Trent laughed from the kitchen. "Good one, Daria's sister." He stuck his head out. "Kidding. Morning, Quinn. Want coffee?"

"Sure, thanks. Let me get into a bathroom and I can run down to that bagel place I saw on the way home. I think it's just around the corner, right?"

Jane gave her a little smile. "Thanks, that'll be nice, but we're leaving in a half hour. Trent needs to get to work."

"You'll have at least 15 minutes to eat a bagel." Quinn pulled a pair of jeans and a sweater from her bag and ducked into the bathroom.

"Unbefuckinglievable," whistled Jane quietly. "I'd have bet that she would be in the bathroom for an hour."

Trent picked up her sketchbook. "Looks like Daria, doesn't she?" He flipped through some pages, stopping at the one with Daria flipping Jane off in her dorm room. He smiled.

"Okay, I know Daria likes poppyseed, what do you guys want?"

"One of their _Asiago_ for me," smiled Jane.

"Same," said Trent. "Quinn? Thanks."

"You're welcome, " she smiled, and checked her watch.

"All grown up," Jane murmured, watching Quinn as she walked briskly off for the corner bagel shop, dressed casually and with no makeup.

* * *

"He works hard," Quinn mused, watching the Toyota as it drove away.

Daria sat quietly at the table, working on her laptop.

Quinn got up, and walked over to where Trent hung his acoustic guitar. A few newspaper clippings, notes that were dropped in his tip jar, and a photograph of Daria and Jane were pinned to the wall, alongside the guitar. She scanned the notes, and then turned back to Daria.

"When's it going to be his turn?" She asked this gently, without accusation or malice.

Daria sat with her hand covering her mouth, eyes closed. Even from across the room Quinn could see the tears that began to flow down her sister's cheek.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_**Easily Forgotten**_

"I don't know what you expect me to do about this, Quinn," Helen said sharply. "She refuses to accept money from us, and Amy says she's dropping out of Raft. It's her decision, and I'm tired of having things thrown back in my face. She's going to ruin her life, and she's made her choices."

"She's dropping Raft and going to a State school because it's what she can afford. And yes, she's being stupid about this whole thing, making things a lot harder than they have to be. Yes, she's made her choices, and I don't agree with them either, but why do you think she _made _those choices?"

Helen pushed her cup of coffee away and closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Jake sat silently, lost in thought.

"Daria chose Trent, just like you chose Dad."

"How _dare_ you make that comparison?" Helen fumed. "It's not the same thing."

"Mom, it is _exactly_ the same thing. And you're reacting just like Grandma Barksdale did."

"You have no right to judge, Quinn. You of all people- what do you know about a committed relationship?"

Quinn sat silently, her face turned away as though she had just been slapped.

"She's chosen a lazy, stupid boy who's going to do nothing but hold her back. Her grades have probably gone to hell since he moved in with her. She's going to wind up supporting _him_ while he does who knows what. How's she even going to do that with a second rate education?"

"Mom, I saw her grades. Trent had them pinned to the wall, right next to her picture. She's maintaining a 4.0 grade point average, even working. And Trent is _not_ lazy. He's working his _ass _off, paying all of the rent for them, paying for the food, taking care of her and Jane. Daria and Trent love each other, and they are good for each other. You better learn to appreciate that if you want to see your grandchildren!"

"Daria's PREGNANT?"

"NO, MOM!" Quinn screamed, tears in her eyes. "That's not what I mean!" She got up and grabbed her backpack. "Why can't you understand that he makes her happy? When have you ever seen Daria happy?"

"Daria makes herself miserable, Quinn."

"That is _not_ what I saw. You should go and see for yourself. And you should listen to his music and t_hen_ tell me that he's stupid. Daria would never fall for somebody stupid." She set her backpack on the table, and pulled out what looked like two sheets of heavy corrugated cardboard, lightly taped together. She set it on the table, and angrily walked out the door.

Helen watched as Quinn got in her car and drove off to her early class at Lawndale State._ At least she's getting herself in order. All those lost years, not applying herself, acting the part of someone with no depth. Helen had wished that Quinn would have made just a fraction of the effort that Daria had put into her schoolwork, but instead she had seemingly rejected everything that her older sister stood for. The two girls wouldn't compete with each other; even as Helen had tried to bring them to some middle ground, they had dug their heels in like typical Barksdale women. _

_ Now, though, things seemed to have changed. Her eldest, so full of promise…what was she doing? And the two girls had begun to set aside their enmity; Quinn seemed to really miss her older sister. When those boys showed up with that wreck of a van to clear out Daria's old room, Quinn had moved her sister's remaining books and CDs into her own room, and had helped them carefully box up some of those odd medical models. The old bed, dresser and clothes were thrown helter-skelter into the back of the van, to be carted off to who knows where. _

_ Now, months later, the remodeling contractors still not called, Helen wished that she had kept one of Daria's horrid green jackets. _

She turned away from the kitchen window, setting her coffee cup in the sink. She picked up her briefcase, and reached for her cell. Next to it was that cardboard packet. Hesitantly, she picked it up, noting that the cardboard was protecting sheets of paper within. She pulled off the strips of tape and found two charcoal drawings, the surfaces protected by sheets of white tissue. Jane's work; beautifully executed, representational; unusual for her.

The first was of Daria asleep at a kitchen table, head down on an open textbook, her old laptop off to one side. Standing behind her, holding two cups of coffee, was Trent._ Helen had to admit, he was a handsome, gentle man. He was looking down at her daughter with a quiet smile, curiously similar to that half-smile that would sometimes play across Daria's face. It was no wonder, really, that she had had that crush on the young man as a young teenager. _

_ What had happened? Daria was smart enough to know that the boy was nowhere near her equal, and it seemed that she had moved on, putting the infatuation behind her. At least she had dated that Tom, who was much more suitable for her. While it was not likely to have lasted, he was a very nice young man. _

The second drawing was disquieting.

In it, Daria and Trent were embracing. They were sitting on a shabby sofa, and he had his arms wrapped protectively around her, and she was leaning into his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, far from pleased, yet he emanated love and compassion._ Had they been arguing? Making up after a fight? Daria's face was twisted into an expression Helen had not seen before, and there were tears running down her face. She hardly ever cried, and when she did, she had always locked herself away in her room, as if ashamed of showing weakness or vulnerability._

_ She was holding her cellphone in her lap, and Trent was comforting her. Helen felt a twinge of maternal jealousy. Daria had changed with him around, her hard, brittle edges had softened a bit._

_ Suddenly, Helen's heart sank when she realized when that drawing was made. _


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

**_A/N: really, this is the concluding chapter for this little shipper experiment. There will be an epilogue that closes the circle for our protagonist, I suppose; if another thread begins, it'll pick up from here and lead to the epilogue, but jeez, that's a lot of years to cover...we'll see. _**

**_Thanks for all the encouragement along the way on this project- reviews were much appreciated and helped in some instances to guide the story. In particular, I decided to go for a more positive end after reading a guest review that noted how this thread had followed her own- hope your own situation ultimately resolves positively. Family rifts are too common; often resolution never comes in time. Truthfully, you do have my best wishes. _****_-M1_**

_**Face to Face**_

Helen blinked at her laptop's screen, realizing that she had been reading the same email for the last five minutes without comprehending it. Giving up, she closed her mail folder and found herself staring at the photograph that she had chosen as a screensaver. Usually it was hidden by open spreadsheet windows and folders, and it had faded into the background of her consciousness.

_It was an old photograph that she had found years ago. A much younger Jake sat on a threadbare sofa, their two little girls in pajamas alongside, Daria on his right, and Quinn on his left. Both were asleep, leaning into their father, and Jake had his arms around both of them. He looked tired; that was when he was working for that horrible pharmaceutical company back in Texas. Tired, but content. That was a hard time; money was tight. They had just moved into the apartment, making do until they could save enough money for a down payment on a house._

_ Helen studied the three faces in the photograph. Jake, who had sacrificed so much for them all. He had put her through law school, and she was just starting off her career, having relocated the family to Highland, Texas to accept a position with a law firm. Daria and Quinn, faces like little angels. When they were asleep, they looked very much like sisters. When they were awake, it was a different story, even back then._

_ Still, she and Jake had two beautiful girls. She remembered how she would watch them as they slept, thinking about what wonders they might accomplish in their lives._

_ Helen Morgendorffer leaned back in her leather chair, looking around her office. It had been a long road to finally make partner in this well regarded law firm, in a suburb of Washington, DC. _

_The price had been high. So many hours as an associate, shoring up an incompetent boss. She had stolen much of that time from what should have rightfully gone to her family, to her two children. But what choice did she have? Jake barely kept his consultancy running, making just enough to cover the mortgage. _

_It had fallen to her to cover the living expenses, and to set aside money for retirement and for… college. _

_On her polished mahogany desk was a frame that held three small photographs. One was of she and Jake, copied from a newspaper story about a march on Washington from their college days. Next to it was Quinn on the stairs, in a formal Prom dress. The last was of Daria, asleep in bed, a heavy Russian novel open on her chest. She had taken that photograph after carefully removing her daughter's glasses, wanting to capture that face before putting the book away and turning out her light._

_ It was funny how her favorite pictures of Daria were of her asleep. Perhaps it was only then that her beauty could not be hidden. It was only then that she relaxed, and that lovely little smile she worked so hard to suppress would surface._

She closed her eyes, and after a long moment pushed the intercom button on her phone.

"Marianne, please get me a flight to Logan International, Boston."

* * *

"Is she expecting you, Ms. Morgendorffer?" the receptionist asked politely, looking at her monitor. "She's in an editorial staff meeting that is scheduled to run till 1:00 pm."

"Could she step out for a few minutes?"

"She's running the meeting- her direct reports. I could slip a memo in and let her know that you're here. Her meetings always run exactly as scheduled, and she usually takes her lunch break afterwards."

Helen checked her watch. It would be another forty minutes; she glanced at the nameplate on the desk. "Thank you, Nicole. I'll wait. I'll send her a text message and catch up on some work for now."

"Certainly. Would you like to use one of the guest offices?" she asked, indicating a row of glassed-in enclosures close by. Nicole handed Helen a small card. "If you need internet access, you can use this wifi password."

"Thank you, that'll be helpful," Helen replied. "What exactly does Daria do here? I thought she was a part time staffer."

The young woman laughed. "Your daughter is quite the overachiever. She started off as a part time junior writer but got quickly promoted to an assistant editor. She put in a lot of hours over the summer. You should be proud of her, she's thought of highly around here."

She opened a particularly difficult case folder, and distracted herself by working up an alternate legal strategy that might prove to be highly effective, based on the preliminary results of an ongoing data forensics investigation. This proved easier to focus on, as it dealt with a woman who had been wrongly terminated and scapegoated by an old, supposedly reputable firm.

The bastards had covered their tracks well, but not well enough. Helen smiled grimly; this was the kind of thing that had led her to become a lawyer in the first place.

_This was the kind of stuff she believed in, stuff that she was willing to go to the mat for. _

_ And just like her, her eldest daughter was a fighter. She would not put up with crap that went against what she believed in, no matter who it was that was dishing it out. _

The door opened behind her, and she turned. Daria was leaning up against the glass wall, laptop under her arm.

"Hello, Mom," Daria began quietly. She tilted her head slightly, her auburn hair cropped shorter, still a striking frame for her piercing, intelligent gaze.

In her own subtle fashion, she was confident, professional, and clearly capable of intimidation. "Even under the present circumstances, it's still good to see you."

For Helen, it was like looking into a mirror, many years ago; Daria had the same steel in her gaze. Helen could only smile. _We're so much alike, and I pray she can hold on to her ideals longer than I did mine._

She took a deep breath. "It's good to see you too, Daria; I just wanted to see you face to face."

Daria's cool, somewhat neutral expression took on a subtle wariness. Still holding her computer, she brought her arms together. _Why is she here? _

Helen dropped her gaze to the floor, composing herself.

After a long moment, she looked up, into the eyes of her daughter.

"I want to apologize. I'm sorry, Daria, I was wrong about you and Trent. I had no right to try and keep you two apart."

The younger woman stared, dumbstruck. She studied the face of her mother, who was doing the same. She carefully set her computer down on the countertop, dropping her hands to her sides.

After what seemed to be the longest moment in either of their lives, the two women embraced for what seemed like the first time in years.

Helen followed Daria to her cubicle, and they set their laptops down. "Quinn tells me that you've an hour for lunch. Know a place that does a good crow?"

The corners of Daria's mouth twitched upwards. "I'd have to say that I'll have the same. I owe you an apology as well. I'm sorry to have been so damn stubborn; I know you and Dad only wanted the best for me." She looked her mother in the eye. "You know, you were right about me. I guess all this was sort of a tantrum; my refusing to accept money from you and dad was a way of making you feel bad. Thing was I didn't think about how unfair I was being to Trent; he never complained about the situation and just supported me."

"I really underestimated him, sweetie. Quinn's right; you know what you're doing with him. He's a good man." Helen glanced at the paper bag on Daria's desk. "You usually work through lunch? I used to do the same thing; your dad used to make me a sandwich. He'd put it in my briefcase along with an apple."

Daria smiled. "Trent packs me a peanut butter sandwich and apple because he knows me well. I tend to get into my work and lose track of the time." She looked at the clock on the corner of her screen. "We have time for something at a deli, or maybe at this restaurant nearby. The CEO and my Editor have taken me there a few times."

Helen set her briefcase down. "I'm buying, Daria. Please?"

"Okay, Mom," Daria said, trying to sound put upon for old time's sake.

* * *

They were seated quickly at the restaurant; the lunch crowd had mostly come and gone. It was a quiet place, so it was the one that they usually came to for lunch meetings at the office.

"Excuse me, Daria," came the familiar voice behind her. "This must be your mother."

"Ms. Hanlon. Yes, this is my mother, Helen Morgendorffer, of Vitale, Davis, Horowitz, Riordan, Schrecter, and Morgendorffer. Mom, this is Grace Hanlon, the CEO of Hanlon, Page and Meyers, and this is Ms. Marlene Michaelson, my Editor and Supervisor."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Helen," smiled Grace. "Your daughter here is a real asset to our company. As a matter of fact, Marlene and I were discussing Daria over lunch just now."

Helen beamed. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm quite proud of her; something I don't tell her enough."

"Daria, we may as well tell you now," Marlene smiled. "I know you could use some flexibility in your scheduling, and frankly your productivity is not fairly compensated hourly. We'd like to move you into a salaried position. You've done well as my assistant editor, but I'd like to see more of your writing and insight. We'd like to move you into a research and analysis position, where you'd pretty much be working to your own schedule. We'll need you in the office for meetings but we can work that schedule out. We could probably even do much of that remotely."

"I've also had a few client inquiries about good speechwriters, so I'd like to talk to you about that separately as well," Grace smiled. "Marlene and I have another meeting in a few minutes, so we have to get going. Daria, you'll get an email with a proposed job description and compensation. I've also taken the liberty to speak to Professor Richardson about setting you up in a work/study program so you can receive class credit as well."

"We don't want to lose you by burning you out; your academic commitments come first at this point in your life," Marlene continued. "You'd have access to the research staff so you can leverage the time you do have available. Take a look at the email and think about it over the weekend."

"Helen, I'd like to say again that I'm pleased to have Daria," Grace smiled at both of them. "Daria, I'm sure you'll be happy with our proposal. I'd not be foolish enough to forget that you have a legal resource at your disposal. Helen, sorry to have to run."

Helen smiled and watched the two women leave. Turning back to her eldest, she leaned forward. "You have always made me proud, Daria. Most college students would be working in a coffee shop or the school bookstore."

Daria laughed quietly. "I _did _work at the bookstore. It paid crap and was boring as hell. This job pays much better; I'll probably have enough by the end of next summer to pay for one more semester at Raft."

Helen's gaze dropped to the tablecloth; she sighed.

"Please, Daria, will you accept our support? Don't drop Raft. We planned to cover the balance of your tuition and your housing; you were to only work enough to cover your living expenses. Give Trent a break, he deserves it."

"He did want to enroll in some classes," Daria said quietly. "He wants a college degree. He used to talk about starting with online classes, but he couldn't even spare the time and money for that. I'm going to take some of the money I've saved and pay for _his_ classes."

She reached over and put her hand on Helen's.

"Thank you, Mom."

Helen smiled, looking at her extraordinary daughter.

_She left our home a girl, and today I'm sitting across this table from a strong, smart and beautiful woman. _

_Perhaps someday, she'll know how it feels to be as proud of her own child as I am of her._


	12. Chapter 13

_**Epilog**_

"Thanks, Uncle Matt!" the little girl laughed as she was hoisted high on willing shoulders. "There's Daddy!"

Daria craned her neck and managed to catch a glimpse of her husband as he took the diploma in hand. _I'm so proud of you, Trent. You've worked damn hard for this._

She and Trent had been together for over nine years now, and married for the last six, the summer after Daria had graduated from Raft. It had been slow going, with little Ani born a year later; the bright, beautiful little girl was quite the handful. She had inherited Daria's hair and eyes, and Trent's love of music, running nonstop and singing constantly.

"I wish Jake could have been here," Helen wept as she hugged Trent. "He would have been so proud of you." Ani threw her arms open, and Helen picked her granddaughter up. "Ooof! You're getting so big, Ani!"

"Are you sad, Gramma?" the little girl asked, noticing the tears in Helen's eyes. She very gently put her arms around her Grandmother's neck, and pressed her cheek against Helen's.

"No, Sweetie, Grandma's just happy for your daddy."

"Daddy did good," Ani grinned, bouncing happily. Helen had to laugh. _Quinn used to do this._

"Where's Auntie Jane?" Ani looked around, trying to pick out her mom's old friend.

"There she is," smiled Trent, seeing his sister waving at them, camera in hand. "Your cousin Nicky is with her, Sparky."

"Nicky? Yuck, Daddy," Ani wrinkled her nose in a mock scowl. "An' don't call me Sparky! Gramma, you're wrinkling my dress!"

"That is so damn funny, sis," Quinn laughed, coming up behind Daria.

"Hey, Ani," smiled Saraswati, brushing her long, dark auburn hair out of her eyes. "How're they hangin, cuz?"

"How are what hanging?" Ani scowled, looking to her mother for an explanation. "Mommy, what's hanging? What's so funny?"

"Vernacular expression, sweetie. Referring to the dangly bits of the male anatomy. Sara's asking how you are." Daria tried hard to suppress her laugh.

"Well, Miss Rude Thingys, why didn't you just ask normal? I'm fine. How are _you_ hanging?" Ani scowled. "Wait, we're girls. Or at least, _I_ am, and _you're _just dressed funny."

"Now I know Daria's your mom, Ani," laughed Helen, setting Ani on the ground so she could give both her granddaughters hugs.

"Hey, Big Bro," squealed Ani as Nicky walked up, laden with his mother's camera bag.

"Hey, Squirt," grinned the boy.

"I may be smaller than you but I can still kick your butt," Ani sniffed.

"Wanna bet?"

"Did the last time. Wanna try for _two_ black eyes?"

"Hooligan."

"Artist."

"Ivory Tower Intellectual."

"Poser."

"….oh yeah?"

"YOU LOSE!" scoffed Ani, tossing her auburn hair with attitude.

"Huh?" scowled Nicky. "Says who?"

"You got stuck. 'Oh yeah' is an automatic fail. You _brain farted_, so you lose."

The three women stood close together, observing their offspring. "What the hell happened?" Daria smirked. "How come _I_ wound up with a mini-Quinn?"

"Ani's a lot smarter than I am," smiled Quinn. "But my Sara is as cool and as smart as her favorite Aunt."

"My kid hasn't learned yet about tangling with Ani, so he might be an idiot," smiled Jane, "or maybe just pitifully optimistic."

"Nicky's really patient with the girls," Quinn smiled. "Like a lion with a couple of monkeys."

"I can't believe what a handful Ani is," chuckled Daria. "Hey, Mom," she called out, "Was I that much work for you?"

Helen smiled at the photos she had just taken on her phone and walked over. "In a way, Daria. Different, but yes, you were both a challenge. I'd not call it work, though, it's something else, and it's much more rewarding in the end than just work."

* * *

Haroun stepped up to Trent, putting his arm over his shoulder. "About time, slacker boy," he smiled. "Congratulations. Now what?"

"Tour starts in two weeks, and Daria's minding the kids for the west coast segment. The kids want to go to Disneyland, so it worked out great. We play two concerts, and the management comps the admission packages for the whole family and touring crew."

"Like you can't afford to pay full VIP price for twenty people. I guess the kids will be thrilled to see you on a Disneyland stage with giant mice."

Trent smiled. "That's what Daria said. Playing the _Budokan_ in Tokyo meant nothing to them."

"What about her work?"

"Encrypted satellite link in the tour bus. She's mostly writing speeches these days for income, and she's finishing up her third novel."

"You, my friend, are insane. Our three kids, Daria, Jane and just one nanny on a tour bus?" Haroun laughed and shook his head. "Quinn and I will think of you while we relax on the beaches of Goa."

"Looking forward to the peace and quiet, Matt?" Trent smiled as he autographed programs for a cluster of teenage girls. Noticing a group of older girls clutching copies of Daria's latest book, he smiled and pointed her out for them.

"Got that big installation at the convention center, so it'll be a crunch. Jane's been great about the cashflow issues with being married to a working sculptor."

"Remember, if you need help leveling your cashflow out, let us know," Trent said firmly. "Did that foundation grant come through?"

"Thank God, yeah. And Jane starts her teaching gig in the fall at BFAC, so things will smooth out. Nicky starts school then too, at the Montessori right around the block. I'll miss my shoprat. Kid's got a natural design sense, just like his mom."

"Good, that must be the same school Daria picked out for Ani. It'll be easier for both of them to start together."

"She'll have at least one boy to boss around," smiled Matt.

"One's enough," Trent laughed, looking at his wife and daughter. They both looked back at him with those curious little smiles, and the same twinkle in the eyes.

* * *

**_A/N: okay, this is the last of this project. For those of you that are kinda confused about some of the characters, I borrowed my own from Roomies- Ziggy and Matt in particular. I like Matt as a match for Jane. Remember, the arc of this story is based on different factors- it's a totally different Daria-and-Trent scenario._**

**_If anything I'm thinking about going into the Quinn and Haroun story..._**


End file.
